English Summer Rain
by Jamie T. Harloawn
Summary: Hermione is dead...well sort of. Read and review please! Warning: It's Femslash, why are you surprised?
1. Chapter 1: Remember Me

**Chapter One: Remember Me**

"We are gathered here today to commemorate the tragic losses of…." And here we go again, the same all the time. It's been two years already. You can see the tired and numb expressions of the people who've already been through this so many times and just wished to be over it already. It bored me to tears to sit through this time after time regardless of the fact I have nothing better to do.

The war was already over so why can't they just let it go? The speech seemed to go on for hours as they droned on and on about the bravery and greatness of the fallen witches and wizards. But what's so great about someone who's died before the whole thing ended? Because I don't see it, was it because they contributed to obtaining peace? Or was it because they actually gave a shit about the people around them and the future concerning them?

But I was just like them, way over my fucking head thinking I could change it all, actually be worth shit remembering. And now I pay the price for my over-confidence, not that I'm complaining….okay maybe I am, but it's not all that bad really.

"I knew her well through the time she was still with us, we were very close" I smirked at that, it seems his English has gotten a lot better since the war ended, his ego and his sense for exaggeration seemed to have bloated as well. It's weird to even see him here, but for some odd reason this damaged school decided "Hey! Since we have nothing better to do why not gather the schools together to dance and sing about dead people"

"We'll always remember you, Hermioninny"

I snorted, seems like he still can't get my name right.

So much for an honorable mention.


	2. Chapter 2: You've Changed

**Chapter Two: You've Changed **

_Time may change me_

_But I can't trace time…_

_-David Bowie "Changes"_

It took those two years to fix the damage done to the castle and practically the entire world, muggle and wizarding alike. And for those two years I've paced the corridors of Hogwarts… yes ghosts pace as well. Well I do anyways. Another thing would be that I age even though I shouldn't; I haven't got a proper theory for that one unfortunately. But my guess is that it has something to do with why I'm here.

It's almost as if I wasn't really a ghost, but a forgotten memory. People don't see me like they do with normal ghosts, unless I come in physical contact with them, the only ones who see me are the ghosts of the school. And sometimes it pains me to say I have become quite…._acquainted_with _Peeves_.

Yes, I said it, Peeves. Why Peeves? Why not The Grey Lady or Nearly Headless Nick or even Moaning Myrtle for the love of Merlin! Is probably what you're thinking. It's simple really. It gets quite boring after awhile having to be a goody two shoes while alive let alone when being dead. The chaos bringer offered me a change and I took it.

"_What do you want Peeves?" frowning at the poltergeist _

"_Well if it isn't little miss goody two shoes, too bad her brains couldn't stop her from being killed" the annoying wretch giggled as he floated above me. _

"_Sod off" I grunted in reply but he still kept talking. "Tut tut, such language and behavior in Hogwarts is not acceptable Ms Granger" _

_I snorted in reply, "I'm dead Peeves, and I'm not a student here anymore" _

"_But you're still tied to this school even in death; it's why you're here and not anywhere else, is it not?" _

"_No, it's not" I answered vaguely. _

"_I see, here then" he held out an object which looked like one of the products sold by Fred and George. My scowl deepened, is Peeves and idiot or is he trying to insult me? _

"_I thought I told you I'm DEAD" _

"_Yes, but you're not like the rest now are you? I'm sure if you concentrate hard enough you'd be able to hold it" _

"_Even if I could what do you want me to do with it?" confusion couldn't even describe what I was feeling. A wide grin grew on his face then and pointed off in a certain direction. "You see those people there?" I turned to look and saw the people who came in to do the school repairs, even more confused I turned back and nodded. _

"_I want you to throw this at them" he said._

"_Now why would I do that?" I asked in disbelief, I mean just cause I died didn't mean I lost all sense of self. "You're bored, I'm bored, and they don't know you're here, why not?" he said as if he'd forgotten who I am, what I'm known for (apart from the brains I mean) "And I'm sure learning control now will come in handy sometime in the near future" _

"_What? Is the little legendry Granger afraid of ruining her reputation?" he mocked._

"_Excuse me?! Of course not!" Dammit, Gryffindor pride. He grinned once more and threw the object towards me as I attempted poorly to catch it, instead it passed right through me. "Concentrate Granger" he said, sounded oddly much like Mad-eye. _

"_I'm trying" I tried again, this time I was able to almost feel it._

_After many minutes I succeeded, no surprise. "Good" again with the Cheshire cat grin. "Now throw it" he demanded. _

_I did, the object exploded like small fireworks causing the workers to become startled and angry as they looked for the perpetrator, they looked in our direction but all they saw was Peeves laughing hysterically. _

_It felt good, and for the first time since I've died, I laughed. _

Since then the little bastard had been my company, my partner in crime. The other ghosts didn't approve of our antics but said nothing of it and I'm grateful for that.

But here I am now pacing yet again in an empty classroom with Peeves who just floated there above me.

"Is Hermioninny troubled?" he teased. I took no notice of it but instead went into a fit of panic.

"_She's_ here Peeves! Fuck! They're ALL here!" I hissed urgently.

"I know"

"You know?! Fuck, have you got any idea how much trouble this will cause me?"

"You've changed Granger" he said, changing the subject.

"Excuse me?" I questioned, baffled at his statement, but never in my years have I seen Peeves look so...serious.

"You're not yourself" he said as if that made it any clearer to me. But before I could question him more, he was gone. What did he mean? Have I changed? Apart from my recent desire to cause mischief and being a ghost I didn't think I had forgotten that I was Hermione Granger. I couldn't think, so for the first time in years, I went to the library.


	3. Chapter 3: I Will Forget You

**Chapter Three: I Will Forget You**

_You don't care about how I feel_

_I don't feel there anymore_

_I don't sleep, anymore_

_I don't eat, anymore_

_I don't live, anymore_

_I don't feel._

_-System Of A Down "ATWA"_

I didn't come back for revenge, no, never for revenge. As much as that bitch Bellatrix probably deserved whatever was coming to her, I'll leave it in the hands of the living, her fate.

"_Where is it?!" she screeched hysterically, her hair was a mess more than usual, it suited her manic personality. I laughed, a deranged laugh, stupid bitch thinks she can scare me? I think at that moment in time I looked just as mad as she was._

"_Calm yourself Lestrange" he scolded her but only did so half-heartedly, she refused to listen as another session of pain began. _

"_Crucio!" _

_It was curse after curse until I felt as if my body couldn't handle anymore and would shut down from exhaustion. _

"_Where is it!?!!" she asked again, but she sounded more desperate this time. I smirked at her with half-closed eyelids looking as I if was been drunk, I spat at her and told her to go fuck herself_

I didn't die there. In fact I couldn't be more far away from the Malfoy manor. The last thing I saw wasn't the twisted face of madness that belonged to Lestrange. I died watching the tears fall from a blue-eyed "_Weasley"_. I didn't know why she cried, we've never said anything to each other if it wasn't "Pass the salt" at the Weasley's for dinner.

Sometimes it made me wish I died at the Malfoy manor. Sometimes I wished that she never existed in the first place.

Sometimes I was glad I had died….

Goddamn you _Delacour._


	4. Chapter 4: Je Meurs

**Chapter Four: ****Je ****Meurs**

_But not since you left have the waves come  
the bar is dead and the rocket's rain is _

_Keeping you wet in your deathbed  
so high on the waves you made for us  
and not since you left have the waves come_

_... Have the waves come..._

_-Deftones 'Anniversary Of An Uninteresting Event" _

"Right this way Mrs. Weasley"

"Delacour" she replied automatically.

"Ah…right, Ms. Delacour" he said, correcting himself with a bit of confusion he escorted them towards their living quarters.

"Maman? Y at-il quelque chose de l'affaire?"

"Je vais bien ma chèri" Nothing was wrong, everything would be fine, and she'd make sure of that. The war effected all of them, some more than others. Some died, some changed for better or for worse. But everyone is hiding behind a mask of lies trying to get past each day, trying to leave it in the past. Everyone was living for someone else.

Fleur was living for her daughter, Victoire, the only thing in her life that didn't make her feel like time was tearing her apart from the inside. Bill had died not long after Hermione had died on their couch, not long after Bill had become unstable from his lycanthropy.

It happened such a long time ago, but everything was moving too quickly for Fleur to keep up. No one stopped to breathe anymore, because even breathing was too painful.

"Harry? We'll be alright won't we?" he turned to face his red-headed friend, who mirrored his solemn expression with ease. It felt odd to both of them being here in Hogwarts yet again, but this time not being in the presence of a bushy haired girl who had her nose stuck in some old dusty book or other.

"Of course we will, I mean yeah, it's going to be tough but I doubt 'Mione would want us moping about"

"Yeah, she'd probably jump up from her grave and give us a good beating if she found out we're slacking off school" they both shared a weak laugh, unaware of the fact that the person in question was not far behind. They continued walking in silence, both reminiscing the times they didn't want to let go of. If only she could see them now they thought.

"Peeves?! PEEVES?! Where has the confounded midget gotten to?"

Hermione was not having a good day, one reason as to why would be the absence of a certain mischief maker. Then she heard a laugh, a laugh which resembled that of a hyena's, following that laughter she found herself in an unfamiliar room.

"My god, almost everything in here is black, how depressing" to Hermione it seemed like the perfect quarters for Snape if he still lived.

"Qui vous êtes?" a tiny voice asked her, Hermione stiffened and turned around to come face to face with a familiar pair of piercing blue eyes. If Hermione wasn't dead already and if look could kill….well. Go figure.

But it wasn't _her_ and a part of the once proud Gryffindor felt disappointed but relieved at the same time. She also wasn't surprised that the child could see her, children tended to be more open-minded than adults. Certain fairies could only be seen by children too.

"Salut, pouvez-vous parler anglais?" Hermione asked as she smiled gently down at the miniature carbon copy of Fleur. It almost unnerved her how shockingly alike in physical appearance they were; even their presence was all too similar.

The little girl nodded eagerly, "Oui, but not very well" and just like that the child went back to frowning up at her. "But you still 'ave not answered my question, who are you?"

Hermione gave it some thought before answering, because even she didn't know who she was anymore, she was no longer Hermione Granger, she was merely the memory of her. A ghost in every way. A mockery of what Hermione could have been.

"I'm an old friend of your mothers" she said after much thought. The girl looked skeptical and unsatisfied with her answer. She wanted to know more, but before she could question any further her mother called.

"Victoire, où vous êtes?"

"Je suis là maman"

This should have been a signal for her to leave, but the thought of seeing Fleur again made her unable to move, it made her feel excited, _alive. _

"There you are mon trèsor" Her (practically non-existent) breath was caught in her throat when Fleur entered the room and seemed to be staring right at her and only let go of it when she thought that it wasn't her that the blonde beauty was looking at.

"Maman?"

"Yes my love?"

"Did you know 'Ermione Granger?"

So many thoughts were running through Hermione's head at that moment and not one of them made sense to her. But her guts told her she should leave, no, they were _screaming_ at her.

Fleur visibly stiffened at the mention of the brunette's name, but relaxed moments after before answering in hushed tones.

"Oui...but that was a very long time ago"

_Right now that that chapter's over and done with onto the drama!!! (Hopefully) much thanks to your reviews!_


	5. Chapter 5: Burn Your Life Down

_Okay so this may not be as dramatic as I promised but I really tried xP_

**Chapter Five: Burn Your Life Down**

_She seemed dressed in all of me  
Stretched across my shame,  
All the torment and the pain  
Leaked through and covered me.  
I'd do anything to have her to myself,  
Just to have her for myself.  
Now I don't know what to do,  
I don't know what to do  
when she makes me sad.  
She is everything to me,  
the unrequited dream,  
the song that no one sings,  
the unattainable.  
She's a myth that I have to believe in,  
all I need to make it real is one more reason._

**- "Vermillion Part II", Slipknot**

A few more weeks passed by and the atmosphere within the slightly dreary castle lightened immensely. Everyone sat where they liked in the Great Hall, the feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin was officially over. The houses didn't keep to themselves and mingled. Even Draco Malfoy began sitting with the Gryffindor's as well as the other houses, having apologized to both Harry and Ron for being a "spoiled brat" during their many years spent together unwillingly. Harry being the forgiving person he is accepted and persuaded Ron to do the same, and he did though somewhat hesitantly.

Draco himself wasn't exempt from the loss of family members, ever since his father was sent to Azkaban he disowned Lucius and out of grief his mother committed suicide. All the remaining Malfoy had left was his family's tainted name, fortune and broken pride.

"Oi, Malfoy pass us the gravy will ya?" the red head asked rudely.

In response the blonde frowned, clearly not happy from being distracted from playing with Victoire. Fleur had been abit weary about her daughter being around Draco but Victoire had insisted on clinging to him.

_Draco stood in front of one of the many shelves of books not really knowing what he was looking for as he traced the bindings of the books with his finger. He let out a sigh. What was he doing?_

"_Excuse me?" _

_The sudden tugging on his robes caused him to jump and turn to find a small blonde child staring up at him with her curious blue eyes. She held a large book which was practically bigger than she was but seemed to carry it with ease. He felt a strange familiar pull towards her; it was the pull of a veela's thrall. He frowned, a child as young as she was wasn't supposed to possess her thrall until at least the age of seven. _

"_Is something the matter?" he asked with care._

_The young child smiled and held out a worn copy of Hogwarts: A History. "Nne recommended this to me, but some of the English is abit difficult to read, will you read it to me?" _

_Draco was startled by the request, and for a brief moment wondered who this 'Nne' person was. The little girl tapped her foot impatiently._

"_Um sure?" with that he let the little girl drag him to the nearest table and sat him down as she climbed onto his lap. _

_For the next few hours he read her as they both ignored the curious stares from passer-by's. __They hadn't even introduced themselves properly. _

"_Victoire?" all of a sudden the little girl jumped down from his lap and rushed towards the owner of the voice, Fleur, or rather Professor Delacour. So this was Delacour's daughter? The resemblance was definitely there._

"_Malfoy" said the older blonde narrowed her eyes as she finally acknowledged his presence, and without another word she turned around and whisked her daughter away in the other direction._

_Draco let out another sigh, the little girl forgot her book._

"Can't you see I'm busy, Weaselbee?" Draco snapped. The redhead huffed and went to bother his sister.

"Bugger off Ron" she said before he could even get a word out. The male Weasley huffed and sulked in his chair as Harry rolled his eyes at him before handing him the goddamn gravy.

Victoire glared at Ron, for some reason she had an intense dislike for the redhead.

_Draco ran hurriedly in the corridors seeking the two or at least one of them. The old book was held tightly to his chest as if he were protecting it with his life. Moments later he stumbled upon the older Delacour in a more isolated part of the castle. He swallowed and plucked up the courage to confront the somewhat cold and distant woman. _

"_Um, excuse me?" he said awkwardly. The blonde turned to face him and her eyes narrowed in the same manner as always as they met his. _

"_Oh my, a Malfoy with manners, oh how times have changed since the war" the older woman sneered, angered by the boy's presence in general. Draco didn't react, he was used to hatred directed towards him and what's left of his family and even empathized. Through the years he learned how to shut off completely and repay their insults with his silence. _

_Ignoring her remark he loosened his grip on the worn book and handed it to her. _

"_What is this?" she asked eyeing the book suspiciously as she opened it. _

"_Is this some kind of joke?" she said, her voice filled with rage. _

"_What? I'm…not…I mean" the boy stammered as he struggled to defend himself. He had no clue what she was talking about, he was not even sure he wanted to know. Turning on her heel the professor stormed off in a fit of rage leaving a dumbfounded Slytherin in her wake. _

_Picking up the book she seemed so disgusted with, he opened it. Staring back at him was the name of that one person whose memory made the bile in his stomach rise to his throat, the guilt that suffocated him on many occasion_

"_Property of: Hermione Granger"_


End file.
